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Showing posts from August, 2015

When There's a Crack

I flew out to San Diego days before the kids left town for their well deserved R&R.  Alongside my daughter, I learned the routine of the household so that the transition would be an easy one when the “changing of the guard” took place.  My daughter posted instructions on the computer lest I forget which days I must water and when the garbage truck comes.  I reviewed the written reminders.  My eyes dropped down to paragraph three, “In case of an earthquake…” I peeked out the window, past the front yard into the street-- the designated safe place.  The plants, homes, gardens looked lovely!  But I believe in earthquakes and that all it takes for this perfect scene to come crashing down is a crack underneath the foundation where no one sees . Sometimes we Christians have cracks.  Where do cracks come from?  They come from broken spirits leaving us wounded.  How does this happen? Wounds come to us this way: 1.     We sin, ask the Lord to forgive us, but can’t ge

The Daisy House

I work at my desktop with the children at my feet.  A makeshift area rug made of white butcher paper lines the floor where the baby, crayon in hand, imitates her big sister.  Sister focuses on the finishing touches of the house she designed.  The catchy children’s song, Wheels of the Bus, blasts from the Toddler Station on Pandora Radio. Six year old Sookie unveils her masterpiece and I ooh and awe at the sketch.  “It’s a daisy house!”  I exclaim.  “I love the colors.  I wonder what the inside looks like.”  Without hesitating, Sookie describes each room.  “There are five rooms and they are all different colors.  One is Mint Chip, another Strawberry.  There is a Vanilla room, and a Cookies & Cream room and the last room is Rocky Road.  You have to wear a sweater inside because it is very cold.” “A house made of ice cream,” I reply.  “It sounds heavenly!” I dug into my Bible readings that morning preparing for the Women’s Bible Study Group and gave God an imag

The Pontoon Boat

It sticks out like a sore thumb, the pontoon boat, right in the center of their property.  We have to drive past their estate on the bend in order to get to our homes and the pontoon is in full view. This is country living.  There are no HOA restrictions that bind us so therein lay a mixture of beautiful homes and neatly kept gardens dwelling alongside residents that look like they’re preparing for a garage sale at dawn.  Rebels like us purchase property here.  We don’t mind guns shooting off in the distance just over the hill and the sound of goats, donkeys, horses, dogs or the roosters crowing before sunrise.    Owners of RV’s or flat bed trucks are held in high esteem among these country folk.   Our road association meetings are a hoot, but that’s a story for another time. We passed the pontoon property, my neighbor and I, after our workout in the park one morning.  Renie got quiet and asked:  “Should I knock on their door and introduce myself to them and ask them if

A Divine Fix

Sometimes I feel like I’m married to MacGyver; like when the ceiling fan broke and fell on me and he assured me he can fix it with a roll of duct tape. Dust piled high on the ceiling fan in the guest room; I climbed on my ladder.   I swiped the first blade and the whole unit fell on me!  I cried “Help!”  MacGyver came running and grabbed the heavy fan.  I dug in my pocket and pulled out my petite, hot pink sequined flashlight.  He inspected the damage.  “It’s a broken bracket, but don’t worry.  I can fix this .” I don’t want him to fix it.  I want a new fan installed immediately. The family likes this room when they visit.   The fan is right over the bed – the place where six-year old Sookie sleeps.  The bed—my makeshift change station—it’s where I change the baby’s diapers. This mama bear is insistent.  “Do you trust me?”  He asks.  I shook my head negatively, bangs flying from the east to the west.  “ I want a new one .” I was the first one to spot a set of